Fever Running Like a Fire
by rachaelWRATH
Summary: After her confrontation with Jared, Leah is feeling vulnerable, pained and empty. Can anything - or anyone - make her get over Sam?


Author's Note and Disclaimer; So, this is T for now, but I may eventually have to bump it up to M because of the implications and because of Leah's mouth. Heh.  
Blackwater should have happened, and I think SMeyer is an asshat for not giving it to us, but whatever, it happens. This is what the world of fanfiction is for[:  
Blahblah, don't own any characters or places, etcetc. Enjoy~

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She had phased back before she realized that she had no clothes to change back into, and while she really did _not_ want her little brother and 'Alpha' (God, thinking of Jacob as an Alpha was still so damn laughable) seeing her naked, she could not stand being a wolf for a second longer. That was the one aspect of her life that Leah Clearwater had always hated; while she loved the strength, speed and a select few other aspects that came with being a werewolf, she hated that it allowed other people into her head. She did not want to hear her own thoughts most of the time, let alone let other people hear them.

She scrambled through the trees as quickly as she could, stumbling over a few roots as she ran. She was the quickest out of the pack even when human, so she hoped that she would be gone long before her annoying little brother and even more annoying pack leader noticed. She wasn't sure where she was going or when she was would return to her pathetically small pack, but all Leah knew was that she needed room to breathe.

_We want you back. Sam wants you back._

Jared had been lucky that she hadn't mauled his face off right then. She had been tempted, so tempted, to just attack him and rip that smug smirk right off of his face. Looking back, Leah wished that she had. While Jacob probably would not have been pleased and may have actually punished her (like he actually could), it would have felt more amazing than she could describe; all of the frustration that she felt, all of the bitterness and resentment that she had to keep bottled up would have been released. Verbally assaulting her (ex) pack members had not been enough; it had been good for a temporary fix, yes, but the feeling came back all too soon.

She knew that the members of Sam's pack hated her because of how she acted, though she could not find it in her to care. The pain she dealt with daily was too much to deal with, and she needed some way to let it out. She almost wanted to provoke one of them to hit her; a physical fight would let off more steam than a verbal one. Sometimes she wished she had the balls to just let herself sink at the cliffs after jumping off; even a werewolf would eventually drown, right? But she was too scared, too wimpy. While she felt like she was dying every day she went on, she didn't have what it took to take her own life. She was pathetic.

_Sam told me to beg. He told me to literally get down on my knees if I have to._

If Sam wanted her back, he should have dragged his ass out to Forks and told her so. She would have followed him in a minute if he wanted her back; he, of all people, should know that. Leaving his Pack had been the hardest decision she ever had to make. She was not sure how long she would last without seeing him every day, without hearing his voice in her head.

While she still loved him and felt as though she needed to see him every day, seeing him killing her on the inside. The conflicting emotions made her more frustrated than she could even express, though she dealt with them every day and tried to ignore the fact that she felt like she was going to explode. However, seeing him with Emily killed her on the inside, and that had been the real reason as to why she left. If he had just dumped her, she could live on the hope that one day they might get back together. But he had Imprinted; he had Imprinted on her best friend and cousin. The hope she had been going on was ripped out from under her in the cruelest way possible, and she was not sure if she could handle it any more. But it was more than that.

_He wants you home, Lee-Lee, where you belong._

Tears burned behind those green eyes as she slowed to a stop, breathing heavy despite the fact that she did not get tired while running. The unfamiliar moisture behind her eyes burned and stung and she blinked back the pain, surprised. She had not cried in so long and had forgotten what tears had felt like. She closed her eyes tight and leaned back against a nearby tree, sliding down and ignoring the feeling of the bark digging into her bare back as she slid down to sit, hands coming up to cover her face.

She had not been good enough. She was not right for him. No matter how much love and affection she gave, no matter how much she wanted to be with him forever, she was not good enough for him. Emily was all he ever wanted, all he ever needed; Leah was forgotten and thrown to the side like a child's old, forgotten toy. She was old news.

She knew that there had to be something wrong with her. If wolves Imprinted so that they could continue the line, Sam should have Imprinted on her. She felt so pathetic, so useless, and so angry at herself. _She_ should have been his everything. _She_ should have been the one he married. _She_ should be the one with the happy ending. Leah deserved him; Emily had met him once and then she became his.

The bitter sobs she had kept inside for what felt like thousands of years finally came to the surface as the painful tears left her eyes. She felt pathetic and weak though did not care; Sam's old nickname had brought back so much pain, so many memories, and she could not keep this back. She had remained strong for too long and now she needed her time to be weak.

"Leah?" She recognized the voice calling her name and so many swears left her lips and filled her mind. She wiped her eyes hurriedly as Jacob came into view. The glare she sent him could peel paint and stop lightning, though he advanced forward.  
"Seth's asleep," he informed her, slowing in his steps.  
"And is there any particular reason as to why you need to inform me of this? He's a sixteen-year-old boy; all he does is eat and sleep. Now shut up and go away."  
"What's wrong?" Jake frowned, noting that her voice sounded more nasally than normal, not going anywhere.  
"Nothing; I'm fit as a fiddle, happy as a clam, whatever saying makes you happy and gets you the hell out of my sight."  
"Leah, you're a rotten liar."  
"And you're an asshole." She rolled her eyes and pushed herself to stand, not caring that he would see everything she had to offer. She had told him to leave and he had not listened; it was his fault if he saw something he didn't want to. "And if you're not going to leave, I will." She moved to brush past him, but he caught her wrist.  
"Were you crying?" His voice sounded horrified, but now he could see her red eyes and the tracks of tears that she had missed. He had not known Leah was capable of crying; she was a heartless bitch, wasn't she?  
"Do you not know the meaning of 'shut up?' Even _dogs_ are able to comprehend those two words."  
"Leah, is it about what Jared said?" Comprehension flooded his face, and he instantly felt bad for disturbing her.  
"Shut up, Jacob!"  
"You can go back to him if you want, you know." At that, Leah wheeled around and smacked him as hard as she could. While Bella's punch hadn't hurt at all, Leah's bitch slap sure had; his head turned so hard with the impact that he heard his neck crack. The pain radiated to the top of his head and he stumbled back, blinking a few times in surprise. She did not stop there however; she punched him hard in the shoulder, sending him stumbling back once again.

"God damnit, shut up! You of all people should know how to keep your fucking mouth shut! Are you emotionally retarded to everyone but yourself? You fucking knew why I'm fucking upset, you jackass, so just leave me the hell alone!" As she spoke she pounded on his chest, shoving him back as tears fell over once again, betraying and humiliating her. "No, I can't go the fuck back! If I go back, I'll be living like this forever!" As she cried harder and harder, her hits became useless and she just collapsed into sobs, though surprisingly, Jacob caught her. She clung to him and sobbed into his bare chest, letting go of the pain she had held on to for over a year.

The sobs quieted after what felt like a century and Leah knew she should be ashamed. She wiped her cheeks and took a few deep breaths, and looked up to Jacob. He looked down at her at the same moment, his expression unsure, as if he couldn't tell if she was going to hit him again or start crying once more. However, the last thing he expected was what actually happened.

"Kiss me, Jacob," she murmured, and he winced at the familiar words before raising an eyebrow, a look that could be taken as disgust crossing his features.  
"_Wha—No!_" He cringed and scrunched up his nose, shaking his head and pushing her away. "Jesus, are you having a nervous breakdown or something?"  
"No, I'm not!" She sent him another glare. "Kiss me!"  
"Why the hell should I?"  
"Because you can," she said simply, though continued before he could respond. "Because you're hurting and don't know how to make the hurt go away. Because you're so fucking _angry_ and you don't know how to handle it. Because you want to feel better, but no matter what you do, you can't. Because you just want to feel wanted instead of feeling pathetic and alone." She paused, allowing him to process that before speaking again. "Because I know how exactly how you feel."

In a flash she was back in his arms, and he was startled to realize how well she seemed to fit there. "Because we both just want to feel whole again, because we're sick of being broken." Her lips were so close, and he swallowed. "Because, underneath it all, you know you want to." She rose up onto tiptoe, closing the gap between them and he bent down in instinct to the same, and the connection was like electricity. The kiss was not innocent and sweet; it was pure fire and for a human, it could have been considered violent. The passion was unmatched and he shoved her back against the tree she had been initially leaning on, roughly grabbing her by the hips and pulling her closer.

They didn't care that Seth could wake up at any moment and hear them, they did not care that the Cullens could hear everything that was going on. They did not care about anything except for what they were doing. They did not have to be careful and so they weren't; they just let themselves go and _felt_. And for once, what they felt was not pain.


End file.
